


Like a Leopard-Wolf

by Hiniwalay



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Asian Character(s), Body Image, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, to assuage this Asian author, wrap this awkward turtleduck in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28506267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hiniwalay/pseuds/Hiniwalay
Summary: The people of the Water Tribe and the Fire Nation feature many obvious differences. Unfortunately for Katara, she doesn’t have much prior foreign reference. So, stuck on Zuko's ship, she draws her own comparisons.
Relationships: Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 209





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MuffinLance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/gifts).



> The fascination with animals and a couple of key phrases came from the great MuffinLance-senpai's 'Cheating at Pai Sho'. This fic is a lot more ace than I would have created all on my own, but all you wonderful people in the AO3 Avatar fandom are teaching me to appreciate the finer gen things.

The infernal prince was staring at her.

“What?!” Katara snapped. She was already disgruntled at being dragged, against her will, onto this metallic, smoke-belching monster. Now she couldn’t even _fume_ in peace? Her feet stomped on the ship’s rusted plates. She did _not_ have the patience for this.

“You’re hairy.”

 _That_ was the most affronting non-sequitur she’d ever heard, and she lived with _Sokka_. “ _Excuse_ me?”

“Your... skin.“ Prince Jerkbender’s pale hands gestured, vaguely. “It’s got little hairs covering it.”

W-what? That was normal! They helped keep out the cold. “ _So?_ ”

“It's weird,” he said, peering at the little brown hairs that littered her wrist and climbed over the back of her hand. They faded off to the side but also poked out from the lower halves of her fingers. No one ever stared like that at the South Pole, not that they would have been able to _see_ her hands when she always wore mittens. Or see any of the hairs all over her body. Self-consciousness burned up her neck to her face.

She snatched her hand back and, giving him a mocking once-over that checked the hairlessness of _his_ hands and lingered over his supremely unflattering haircut, retorted, “ _You’re_ as hairless as a tiger-seal.”

His yellow eyes met hers warily. Arms crossed in front of his chest. “…What is that?”

It jarred her that he didn’t know and mortified her that she could not explain. Her tongue struggled to string together properly disparaging words. “It’s, it’s a thing! Animal. An _animal._ In the South Pole. They’re bald. And _squeaky_.” Not really, but they looked like they were. This ignorant, spoiled prince didn’t have to know. “Sokka has more hair on his legs than you have on your _entire body_.”

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. It was an incredulous sort of disgust, like he couldn’t believe there was anything so nauseating. “Is that supposed to insult me or him?”

A snicker escaped Katara’s traitorous mouth.

A cough to the side disguised it, but too late. She looked back to see his reaction, and for a second there it looked like Prince Zuko, spawn of all things Fire Nation and evil, grinned.

...

“You’re pale,” she blurted one day as the prince completed his cool-down stretches. He was wearing his training vest, leaving his sweaty, gleaming arms on display. “ _Extremely_ pale. Like a dead fish.”

Zuko steadily rose from the standing forehead-to-knee bend he was doing. It was ridiculous, really. Katara had tried it herself and couldn’t get anywhere near that ease of flexibility. Idly, she wondered if that was a Fire Nation thing, or if it was just Zuko.

He lifted a brow. “Are you going to compare me to animals for everything?”

Aha, now was her chance! “It’s not my fault all your body hair gets singed off from firebending.” She smirked smugly. She had been working on that comeback ever since.

There was silence.

…She had wanted a reaction out of him, but nothing as… as vulnerable as this.

The prince turned on his heel and stalked away without a word, but not before giving her the most _hurt_ expression: eyes burdened, mouth pained, and brow crumpled.

Brow. _He only had one._

And here she thought tasteless humor and tactlessness were Sokka’s thing.

...

“Hey,” she said, coming up behind Zuko.

He didn’t turn. Didn’t even grunt. The only acknowledgment she got was an involuntary tensing of the shoulders.

“For the record,” she said a little pleadingly, “I also think you’re sleek and strong, like a leopard-wolf. Stealthy like one, too, when you want to be.”

“I don’t need your pity,” he growled. Actually _growled_. He was so _infuriating,_ she would pinch his ear and drag him down to face her and _make_ him hear her—

But she had come to apologize.

“It's the truth,” she insisted, after she exhaled the anger from her tone. The words still came out rather strained from embarrassment, though. “I kind of hated myself for thinking you could be... kind of... attractive. Well. Now you know.”

For the first time, he turned. His eyes were wide, but somehow, it was still a glare. Looming over her, he accused, “You're _lying_.”

Her mouth fell open, and the blood in her cheeks increased tenfold. “I spill my most embarrassing secret to you and _that's_ how you react! Okay, fine! Forget what I said, if that's what makes you happy!”

She stormed off in a perverse echo of their last conversation.

He reached for her, but she didn’t see.

...

He dithered around the entrance to her regular quarters. Eventually, with a deep breath for mental fortification, he braced himself and dared to say, “You're kind of like a puma-cat. The breed from Si-am.“

Katara turned slowly, eerie calm on a stormy-eyed face. "Excuse me?"

“Because—” Zuko was trying, _please_ let this work as a peace offering. He would have said _you’re exotic_ but he feared that might not blow over well. “Because your eyes are blue. And you like to talk. And the way you move, when you’re not mad. And how you get into my spaces.”

Her chin rose higher and higher with every sentence, and somehow, he didn’t think this was working.

Before she could go to steps and stomp away _again_ , his larger hand was on her wrist. “I _like_ puma-cats. Ishi was... was my only constant friend, in the palace.” _Besides the turtleducks_ , he could have added, but that would have made him look even _more_ pathetic.

Her hackles fell. Softly, she responded, “Was?”

Zuko turned his head to the ground. “Father gave her to Azula when I couldn’t meet his standards.” And Azula had... Azula had...

It didn’t bear thinking.

He felt a tug on his hand and realized that she was brushing aside the fingers that still gripped her wrist. He let go immediately, but— she only used the freedom to hold his hand in both of hers.

“I brought home an injured polar pup once,” she said gently. “Everyone was so angry. I didn’t know — I didn’t realize it was dangerous.” Her eyes were so blue, so _kind_. “Don’t blame yourself. You did the best you could.”

He almost believed it.

...

“You,” said Katara as Zuko showed her some defensive moves, “are the _real_ puma-cat between the two of us.”

He rolled easily from his fallen position on the ground to his feet. “You are, too,” he said, flushing, and it obviously wasn’t from exertion. He then proceeded to distract her by teaching a new form. “...sidestep, deflect the arm, trap, and twist.”

“Like this?”

“Twist my arm further. And make it _sudden—_ Ah— ah!” She let go, and he wrung the arm out, righting himself. “Yeah. You’ve got it. See how it forced me to bend? You can bring someone to their knees like that if you bend with them.“ He demonstrated. “Let’s try again, from the top.”

They went through the motions in silence. This time, Katara successfully executed the movements from start to finish. Then, they reviewed all the maneuvers so far. Eventually, as she was crouching and he was flat on his back, she recalled her conversation-opener. “As I was saying, you’re much more feline than I am. You even _fall_ gracefully.”

He gave her a look that was halfway between a grimace and glowing abashment. He said nothing in response, but instead, with a quick roll and a spring to his feet, was, within half a second, holding a hand out to help her stand up.

She glanced at the bare, callused hand hovering in front of her then up to his face. There was an expression there, something she was just beginning to understand. She knew that _he_ knew she didn’t need his help.

There was a charge in the air, a bated breath.

She clasped his hand.

It was rough where it brushed against the little hairs on her fingers. But that was part of who they were, and she could make peace with that.

She looked into his eyes and gave him a smile which he tentatively returned, a promise of things to come.

...

...

...

Katara stroked the mass of hair on her lap, smoother and silkier than it had any right to be. There were many things she had learned about Zuko and herself, many physical differences that marked their separate lineages. She’d learned to accept them and take pride in her own uniqueness, but this was one contrast that would possibly always give her wistfulness.

They were lounging on the cushions out in the terrace, enjoying one of the rare lazy and paperwork-free mornings. The air was heavy and humid, as it ever was in the Fire Nation. Her hair was frizzy and hanging over Zuko’s own as he sprawled out over the silks.

He stretched his back and limbs, all elegant-like, and Katara was struck with the remembrance of conversations long ago.

“You make an excellent kitten.”

The edge of his smile shone on his cheek. “Even without the fur?”

She poked him in the side. “Oh, hush, I know I’m hairier. I don’t hear _you_ complaining, mister.”

“No,” he said, rolling over to stall her poke attack and snaking his arms around her waist. “There are hundreds of different animals out there, but I like _this_ one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was born out of my own attempt to reconcile the fact that I, a biological female, am hairier than my dad. Alas, we can’t all have those smooth East Asian genes.
> 
> Comments are love! ^v^)/ <3
> 
> Happy New Year!


	2. Extra: The MuffinLance Crew

"Uncle's like a giant panda-raccoon,” Zuko said as the said uncle ambled onto the deck, multiple rice cakes in hand. The old man somehow managed to yawn and chew vigorously at the same time.

Katara had no idea what that was, but Zuko said it with such conviction that she agreed whole-heartedly.

More and more comparisons ensued. Lieutenant Jee was a wrinkled old komodo rhino. Helmsman Kyo was a penguin in puberty. Cook Deku was a mother picken.

“And Hanako,” they whispered among themselves, eyes skirting the edges lest they be overheard, “is beyond anything, animal or human.”


End file.
